


And Then There Was Us

by Pikamiya



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Gen, M/M, couch battle, i tag nothing useful, sleeping but complicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26212039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pikamiya/pseuds/Pikamiya
Summary: Nino just wants a certain someone to hold his hand.
Relationships: Ninomiya Kazunari/Sakurai Sho
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	And Then There Was Us

Nino couldn’t remember the last time someone had held his hand and _meant_ it. 

Sure, Aiba or Ohno usually grabbed his hand during the encores, when they all bowed and said “Arashi~.” Sometimes, during concerts or photoshoots, his hand was grabbed for the “aesthetic,” and that was kinda cool. But, nobody ever _meant_ it. 

He looked at his left hand, stretching out the fingers as far as they would go; it wasn’t a bad hand, really. It served him pretty well, but he was aware that he didn’t have the long, artistic lines of Ohno’s fingers. He was also cognizant that, if anything, they were competent and cute digits, capable but not necessarily the most pleasing to look at. He noted a bit of graphite, remnants from the changes he’d made to sheet music earlier, and reminded himself that it was time to give his hands a good scrub. 

Nino was standing at the sink, still contemplating his hands as he scoured them, when Sho came in. Nino didn’t even have to see him to know; the familiar tingle of awareness crept up his spine; he struggled to make sure that the ridiculous grin bubbling at the edges of his lips didn’t dare to make itself known. 

Taking a minute to let the water run the rest of the soap down the drain, Nino pondered his options. He wasn’t quite sure when he first realized he had started feeling a _special_ kind of affection for Sakurai Sho, but it was no longer something he could deny. He wanted _Sho_ around; he wanted _Sho_ to talk to him; he wanted to talk to _Sho_ . He glanced down at his hands, pushing the soap suds around the sink - he really wanted _Sho_ to hold his hand. 

Scratch that; he wanted Sho to hold his hand and _for it to mean something._

Nino already knew the feel of Sho’s fingers intertwined with his own; he just hadn’t realized how much he’d memorized the feeling of the few calluses Sho had - not the calluses of hard labor, like Nino’s mom’s, but rather those of a scholar. Just a few rough patches along the top of his palms, along the knuckle of his third finger where he’d hold a pencil. Nino’s fingers rubbed the same bump on his own left hand - his from writing music - and let himself smile. He liked it when they were the same, he and Sho. A maybe not-so-small part of him kept a list. 

He shut off the water, stepping away from the sink, judging the positions of the others out of the corner of his eye. For once, Ohno had commandeered the recliner, headphones in, eyes closed. Jun, of course, was still meeting with the concert staff, but Aiba was spread across the biggest couch - flailing out as much as possible to claim as much room as he could. 

That left… the loveseat. The two-seat couch that faced the television on the opposite wall. From here, Nino could see Sho’s tousled dark head on one side, and he stuck his hand behind his back to keep his fingers crossed as he approached. Without hesitation, because hesitation is definitely something Aiba would notice, he leapt over the couch into the empty space next to Sho, not even bothering to hold in his cackling laugh when Sho jumped about a foot off the couch. 

“Nino, what the _fuck_ ,” Sho’s exasperated voice just made Nino laugh harder, and in retaliation Sho brought his feet up on to the couch, pushing into Nino’s space. Well, two could play at that game. Nino did the same, but his shorter legs were able to make it all the way across as Sho grabbed the remote, aimlessly scrolling through the television channels as their legs continued to scuffle. Nino’s heart thrilled every time Sho shifted, even though he continued to fight back to the best of his ability - crush or not, Nino was not one to be defeated. 

Eventually the two of them settled in, legs entwined, slightly breathless. Nino struggled to ignore the heat rising through the back of his neck and up into his ears; trying desperately not to meet Sho’s eyes or think too hard about how close Sho’s left kneecap was to a certain part of Nino’s own anatomy. He closed his eyes, shifting a little, thinking hard of baseball and other less exciting activities. He pulled out his phone to play a few rounds of Pazudora when he felt Sho’s torso shift closer. 

It was to the background of Ohno’s soft snores and Aiba’s sleep mumblings that Sho held Nino’s hand for the first time. Nino watched, paralyzed, as Sho rocked forward, snagging Nino’s right hand with his left before settling back against the cushions again. Nino’s torso was stretched a little awkwardly, but he couldn’t even begin to care - Sakurai Sho was holding his hand. 

“Is this okay?” Sho said, running his thumb across Nino’s knuckles, and Nino convulsively clutched his hand tighter. 

“Ah, yeah, it’s fine,” he said, pretending like his voice didn’t crack on the second word. 

“Good; I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. What do we want to watch, since everyone else is asleep?” 

A few hours later, Sho tucked Nino’s bangs back behind his ear as he settled him in more comfortably on his chest. He chuckled, stretching out his legs to the far end of the couch, snuggling him in close. It had taken him the better part of a month to orchestrate today, and he was proud that it had worked out exactly as he had hoped; even if he did owe Aiba some extensive research on rare cuisine from Germany in payment. Ohno had just chuckled and patted him on the back on his way to the armchair. Jun… well. Jun never had to be convinced to stay later to plan. 

Nino stirred, glancing up at him with those burnt-honey eyes that Sho loved so much. 

“Ah,” Nino sputtered a little, and Sho tightened his grip just a touch. “I should really get up.” 

“Nah,” Sho said, “Ohno and Aiba are knocked out cold.”

“True,” Nino said, smiling his truest smile. “And then, there’s us.” 

It was to the background of Ohno’s soft snores and Aiba’s sleep mumblings that Nino kissed Sho for the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> For Katumi, because they won two! drabbles during August's nomikai but they were kind enough to let me combine them into one.


End file.
